


The last hunt?

by Senayen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hunt, Hurt, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28094877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senayen/pseuds/Senayen
Summary: She goes to kill a nest of vamps, but it doesn't go as planned. Could this be her last hunt?
Kudos: 3





	The last hunt?

She slid around the edge of a rundown building and stopped behind the corner, pressing her body into the moldy brick wall. Tightening her grip around the blood-smeared machete in her right hand, she forced herself to take deep but silent breaths. Her pulse hammered in her chest as if her heart wanted to jump out of her – very likely – cracked rib cage. With every frantic beating of her heart, she felt the blood seeping out of a deep wound in her left thigh and pooling in her beat-up leather boots. At least she didn’t leave bloody footprints behind, leading the vamps in her direction even better than the scent of blood trailing behind her would very likely do.

She silently cursed and peeped around the corner, almost feeling her pursuers breathing down her neck. What compelled her to think she could take on the nest herself, she couldn’t remember anymore. Oh right, she didn’t know it was a nest. Last night it seemed like an easy hunt and since her last partner left her, she didn’t have a choice anyway but to go in alone.

Slowly but surely, the situation began to feel hopeless. Could that really have been her last hunt?

Her investigations over the last few days had led her to believe that it would only be a few vamps, probably newbies, judging by the sloppy bodies they left behind in the industrial district of the small town she currently was bleeding out in. Her nightly visit in the mortuary had equipped her with enough dead man’s blood to take down at least 5 vamps, her machete was freshly sharpened and razorlike and her small backup semi-automatic pistol was clean and loaded, securely strapped to her right ankle. But when she had arrived at the rundown warehouse that she suspected to be vamp central, she realized she had made a big mistake. Her first mistake of the night.

She had run smack dab into the middle of what she soon would know to be an unfortunately big nest. After sneaking up behind and taking down the first vamp that had guarded the entrance of the warehouse with a well-placed injection, she had snuck into the building and, with her machete at the ready, rounded the first corner. The short hallway had opened into what had to be one of the smaller storage rooms. Only a few meters from the corner, two vamps had been arguing.

It had sounded like one of them accused the other of leaving his “empty feedbags” lying around in the streets and therefore attracting unwanted attention. Sensing that they were momentarily oblivious to their surroundings, she had used her moment of surprise and jumped out from behind the corner, sprinting towards the two and tackling the one closest to her to the ground. For a second, it had worked. The vamp currently lying under her groaned, having hit the solid concrete with a sickening crunch of his head. She had jumped off his body and spun around to the other vamp, the supposed newbie that stared at her like she was a ghost.

But his stupor had quickly faded when he eyed her machete and realized the immediate danger. He had hissed, and his fangs protruded from his gums, his eyes zeroing in on the intruder. Sensing that she had to act quick or she would have been at an even bigger disadvantage, considering the difference in height and weight between her and him, she attacked and aimed at the head.  
Her first swing had missed when the newbie jerked his torso back, narrowly avoiding the sharp edge of the machete. Fortunately, that sudden movement had made him miss the remnants of a big shipping box right behind him, and he stumbled backwards. That little opening in his defense had given her the opportunity to strike a second time, and that strike hit the bullseye. His severed head had landed next to the lifeless body. Unfortunately, her lucky strike had left her unobservant for just a millisecond too long, and that had been her second mistake.

The first vamp had regained consciousness and stalked towards her, gripping her by the back of her jacket and throwing her across the room. She had smacked against the wall with a loud thud that she felt reverberating through her whole skeleton. That had knocked the wind out of her, and she slid down the wall, groaning. The nerve endings in her whole body had fired warning signals, and her ears rang loudly. Her eyesight had slipped in and out of focus, but she could see the vamp picking up something from the ground. It was the machete she must have dropped when she’d been flung across the room. Twirling the machete in his hand, the vamp had slowly walked towards her, clearly enjoying her visible pain.

Shaking her head to try and get rid of the ringing in her ears, she had slowly eased herself up the wall into a half-standing, half-leaning position. Her rib cage had felt like it was on fire, but she hadn’t allowed herself another moment of weakness. Seeing her attempts to reach for her gun, the vamp had attacked. She had tried to dive to the side, but her battered body hadn’t been fast enough to get completely out of range of the attack to her torso. The downward strike of the machete had grazed her thigh. A cry of pain had escaped her lips, and she slid back down the wall. The vamp had grinned triumphantly and raised his arm for another strike. Acting on instinct, she hadn’t given him the chance for another hit and kicked out with her uninjured leg. Her foot had hit her opponents’ knee, and it snapped to the side with a sickening crunch, taking the man down. With a battle cry, she had pushed herself up from the ground and onto the arm that held her machete and pried the weapon from his hands.

The vamp, momentarily blinded by the pain in his leg, hadn’t been fast enough to ward off her attack and with a gruesome sound the machete, had sliced through his neck. She had groaned as the fast movements made her ribcage burn like fire and raised her eyes to survey her surroundings.

She had heard hurried footsteps coming from the other side of the storage room and stumbled to her feet. Cursing herself, she had known she was in over her head and had to leave if she wanted to get out of this situation alive. She had almost reached the hallway leading to the warehouse entrance when four more vampires had burst through the door on the opposite side.  
Their surprise at seeing two of theirs lying headless had given her the seconds she had needed to hobble towards the exit and slam the door behind her. Suspecting that she had mere moments before they would catch her, she had spun around and tried to make her way towards her car parked a few streets down. Her injured leg had slowed her down majorly, and she felt her blood pumping out of her body. As she had rounded the next corner, she heard a door slamming against a wall and had known they were coming.

She knew her situation was hopeless. Not even the adrenalin would keep her upright long enough to get to her car safely. If she had to die tonight, she would go out guns blazing, taking down as many vamps as she could. So she pushed back from the wall, took a few wobbly steps toward the middle of the alley and squared her shoulders.

But surprisingly there were no vamps coming around the corner. The sound of the footsteps seemed to have stopped, and suddenly she heard the unmistakable sounds of a fight.  
Confused, she peaked around the corner once more and saw two tall men locked in a fight with the vamps. She didn’t know them but guessed they had to be hunters too. Their movements were precise, almost elegant, speaking from years of experience. The fight was fierce, illuminated by the few remaining street lamps that hadn’t broken down.  
Feeling like she had to do at least something other than slowly dyeing her pants red, she changed the machete to her left hand and reached for the gun in her ankle holster. In the meantime, the first vamp had gone down and left the men with three opponents. Two of them proceeded to attack the taller of the men. He definitely looked like he could hold his own against the vamps, but she didn’t want him to have to.

Making a split-second decision, she raised her gun and let out an ear-piercing whistle. Alerted, the vamp nearest to her spun around and faced her. Sensing her opportunity, she locked her target -the vamps head- and shot. The bullet hit the vamp clean in the head, and she suddenly was very thankful for the countless hours she spent on the shooting range.  
Knowing that he likely wouldn’t stay down for long, she aimed for the second vamp, but that wasn’t necessary anymore. The sound of the shot had distracted the other vamps enough so that the hunters were able to attack, and they went down. The tall guy stalked towards the vampire she just shot and sliced his head clean off his shoulders before he could even try to regenerate and come back up.

The silence that followed the fight was eerie. All that could be heard were her and the hunters’ heaving breaths and the sound of cars in the distance. Now that it was over, her adrenaline rush waned, and she stumbled to the side, leaning against the nearest wall and dropping her gun. Without the adrenaline, she could feel every ache in her body, the coldness in her left leg and the hammering pain in her skull.

Her gaze wandered over to the two hunters. Both of them lowered their machetes at the same time and looked over to where she stood. The last thing she saw before she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness was the equally worried looks on their faces as they ran towards her.

The pain in her ribs was the first thing she felt when she jerked awake. She lay on a cushioned surface, and the ground was moving. Or was she moving? Her head hurt, and she let out a muffled groan.  
“Don’t move too much. We’re close to the hospital,” she heard a deep voice say and a hand touched her shoulder gently.

She pried open her eyes and blinked a few times. It seemed like she was in a moving car, but she didn’t recognize it. The hand belonged to one of the hunters that saved her ass back in the alley. He was in the passenger seat, but had apparently turned around when she woke up. His longish brown hair fell in front of his face when he bent over the seat to reach her. She tried to lift her hand to touch his, but her arm wouldn’t listen to her.

As she began to slip into unconsciousness again, she heard him say, “Drive faster, Dean” as he threw her a worried look and turned towards the driver.

Everything after that she could only remember in freeze frames: the car screeching to a halt, shouts for help, the car door at her head being ripped open, someone picking her up and laying her down on a gurney gently, being wheeled into the ER, someone shining a blinding light into her eyes, a needle being shoved into the back of her hand and then finally no more pain and succumbing to darkness.

She came into consciousness with a start, her hand going to her hip instinctively, searching for a weapon, when she didn’t immediately recognize her surroundings. That sudden movement hurt like hell, even through the haze of the pain meds.

“Hey, hey, don’t move too much. You’re in the hospital. You’re safe.” The words came from her left and her eyes flew to the man who spoke.

“It’s you!” she said and let herself fall back into the pillows with a soft groan. After a few seconds, she groggily turned her head to him. “I guess I should thank you for saving my life.”

A chuckle came from behind the first guy. She looked around him and saw that the second guy, the driver, sat in an uncomfortable looking hospital chair near the door, almost like he was guarding it. “Gratitude accepted. We’re just glad the docs didn’t lose you. You lost a lot of blood out there.” He stood up and joined the first guy standing near her bed. “By the way, I’m Dean and that’s Sam,” he said.

She blinked a few times as her brain worked to try and find out why those names seemed so familiar. A few seconds passed as she looked back and forth between the two men. “Winchester?” she asked.

When both of them confirmed her guess with a nod, she said, “I know who you are. I guess every one of us knows about you. Hunters love gossip.” She chuckled. “Seems like you were in the right place at the right time to save my ass.”

The man she now knew to be Sam nodded. “Yeah, and not a second too late.”

Dean nodded in agreement. “What on earth made you think you could take on that nest by yourself? Did you WANT to get yourself killed?” That accusing tone made her flinch. Sam elbowed his brother in the side and shot him a glance that seemed to mean “Really?”

Dean sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t wanna make you feel bad. We are just curious. You seem to be a capable hunter from what we saw back there, but a nest of that size can’t be taken on alone.”

“Yeah, now I know that,” she said sheepishly. “My research made me believe that it wasn’t a nest, but just a few rogue vamps. Guess it should have been more thorough. But since my last partner left without a word, I don’t have anyone to double check my research. I guess it was my lucky day that you two caught the same bat-signal.”

She looked around the room. “Do you know where my things are? And what did you tell the doctors about my injuries?”

Sam sat down on the edge of her bed. “Don’t worry, we hid your weapons in the trunk and checked you in under a false name, and we’ll get you out of here, before they ask too many questions,” he answered her. “You have a concussion, a few cracked ribs and a pretty deep cut in your thigh, but it could have been worse. If you want to, we can get you out of here tonight. Do you have anywhere safe to go?”

As she shook her head, Sam turned to his brother. “Can you give Bobby a call and ask if there are any hunters with a safehouse that can take her in? I don’t wanna risk that we missed any vamps.” Dean nodded and went over to the window, peeping through the blinds. Then he took out his phone and called an obviously familiar number.

“Thank you,” she said again. Sam smiled in acknowledgement and laid a hand on her forearm, careful not to disturb the IV.

“No problem, hunters have to stick together. And I couldn’t look myself in the eye if we just left you here.” She smiled tiredly and let her head sink in the pillows.

“Wake me up when we can go, okay?” Sam tightened his hand affirmatively.

Shortly after, she heard Dean hang up the phone with a quiet beep and say to Sam, “Bobby knows someone half an hour’s drive from here who can take her in. We can bring her over tonight.”

Before she fell asleep, she thought to herself how lucky she was that the Winchesters of all people were there when she needed help and that this wouldn’t be her last hunt.


End file.
